


Proper Worship

by wickedorin



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, Crossover, M/M, extra FFXV tag-on at the end which didn't need its own fic, flowery af writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 14:44:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17184947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedorin/pseuds/wickedorin
Summary: Written for what ultimately turned out to be "Tumblr’s on Fire so I Have to Post These Before My Birthday Drabbles". Request: "Could I  please request angst-free NSFW Seph/Lazard?  I’m also  very curious what would happen if Lazard met Ignis."





	Proper Worship

**Author's Note:**

> NSFW because teh sexin’s. Even if I went all poetic and stuff. Soooo I was inspired to put Seph and Lazard in Galdin Quay for a little vacation, making this a crossover. Then a tiny little bonus I was joking with Schala about so it needed to be here.

It was really quite a pleasant beach.  Sun and sand weren’t  particularly good for Sephiroth’s skin, but there was shade enough and a ridiculously large hat which Lazard teased him was specifically for hiding in plain sight.  Not that they suspected anyone would recognize them there.  
  
The food was a draw in itself, simple ingredients complementing fresh seafood from a chef who knew exactly what she was doing.   Paired with a resort-exclusive concoction of wine and fruit juice over ice,  there was some worry about being able to enjoy the seafood to be found in the city upon their return.  
  
But it was the hotel which proved to be the biggest draw.  The room they’d gotten in particular, with large windows letting in pale moonlight.   Lazard himself rather enjoyed the way the light played off of his own skin, sure, but Sephiroth…  
  
The way the  moonlight danced on the waves outside was beautiful on its own.  The lights of the pier were just obscured enough to let the natural silver-blue take over,  to give Sephiroth’s bare skin and hair a sort of ethereal quality.  Half backlit  by moonlight, a silver halo all around him, Lazard could have stared for  hours.  
  
At least, he might have if he weren’t so openly invited to come closer, Sephiroth giving a challenging little smirk and a come hither motion with one hand, Lazard following like he’d been physically pulled as he left clothes strewn behind him.  Internally, he imagined it was a little like touching a god come to earth; warm and solid beneath his hands, eyes gently glowing, regarding him with desire and amusement–  
  
And rendering him utterly boneless with sure, strong hands along his body, lips capturing and thoroughly claiming his own.  Lazard hardly knew how he’d wound up laying back on the bed, but there was no way he could have minded such a thing, being able to peer up at the elegance above him with a spill of moonlit silver all around.  Pressed against one another, the blond wrapped his legs around Sephiroth’s waist and rolled his hips, being entirely too obvious with his intention, getting quiet little moans out of them both.  
  
It was a challenge to part, even for that necessary moment; for the god Lazard saw was certainly mortal that night, in need of the contents of the bedside drawer to work himself open and yielding.  There’d likely been a string of curses on his lips, barely whispered, hardly given breath, no doubt a plethora of blasphemy as he watched Sephiroth roll his hips, slowly toss his head back and moan, eyes half-lidded and vision only for the flesh and blood man below.  
  
Nothing else existed but the ocean breeze and the moonlight, and the divine heat welcoming him as Lazard helplessly clung to the blankets beneath him in those moments that Sephiroth rocked his hips back, further, deeper, watching the expression on the blond’s face right up until he was fully sheathed.  The moment was the epitome of existing, the height of being alive, gazing down at that very same moonlight which touched his skin as it cast the man beneath him in brilliant contrast; light and shadow.  
  
Every motion, every shift, was _more_.  The ethereal light traced Sephiroth’s  form as he lifted and fell, Lazard’s own gaze blurring further by  pleasure while he took hold of the other man’s hips and finally rolled his own to meet every motion.  Surreal, sublime, and overwhelming.  All things wanted, needed, essential…  
  
For mere moments, Lazard entertained the idea of going until dawn.  The thought of the glistening moonlight fading away to be replaced by the burning fire of daybreak. The concept was ludicrous, of course, his surrender already assured with another perfectly measured shift, Sephiroth dropping even as the blond reached to stroke him to completion…  
  
To watch pleasure and surrender under the moon’s cool glow was enough.   More than enough.  Eyes fluttering closed, Lazard savored the rolling waves of sensation, the sheer pleasure, locking that image away in his mind until next they could get away and do this again.  
  
But until they found it absolutely necessary, the idea of laying close to a god made man was far too good to pass up.

 

* * *

 

_[And bonus, because my girlfriend and I have this AU-ish IDEA where Safay Roth and Lazar exist in FFXV and if things managed to be a bit different the two of them might have found their way to Lucis for some kind of peace talks.  …Like, real peace talks.  All actually diplomatic and junk.]_  
  
Niflheim had extensive  information on those connected to the royal family, but that did not mean that they were necessarily in possession of decent photographs.  The diplomats were introduced to the king’s Crownsguard (as it was determined that the Kingsglaive  was to be “phased out”), exchanging polite conversation.  
  
Well, all but Ignis and Lazar.  It was impossible not to notice their similar sense of style, and became even more difficult to ignore the fact that they were both talking with great interest about Altissian fashion and fine Tenebraen silks.   Safay and Noctis exchanged a bit of a look at the increasingly animated conversation before the king managed to compliment Safay’s  boots.  It was an enjoyably friendly meeting, regardless.

Later that evening, alone in their suite and preparing for bed as formal events would take place the following day, Safay finally breached the subject.   “Long-lost relative..?”

“Might well be.”  Lazar responded with amusement.  Leaning in closer, he   admitted, “Gave me the name of a particular kind of woven satin rope that should suffice for your… muscular frame.”


End file.
